Alright, every one of the reviewers said to make Malik one of the good
guys. Well, I might, but I might not. Yeah, I know, I'm evil. Naw, I'm just
messing with you all, Malik isn't the bad guy. Also I got a review asking
me not to make this a yaoi fic. I'm not a yaoi writer, to tell you all. I
might try it in poetry sometime, but never in stories. Someone MAY persuade
me to do fluff, but that's beside the point. I wasn't gonna put yaoi in
this fic at all.
*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
I remember very few things that happened that night. I remember having a really great dream of Yugi and myself eating in one of our favorite ice cream parlors. We were talking, but what about I can't recall. And then suddenly, I felt something, something, chilling. It wasn't a physical chill; it was like, well, it's a little hard to explain. Everything I messed with with my mind, each had a different vibe coming from it, and I could feel it. For example, the toothpick on the first day felt warming, because it was made of wood. What I felt that woke me up was chilling, and at first, I was dead pissed at whatever it was for waking me up. At first, I really didn't care what it was, I just wanted to drive it into the wall, and so I tried it.
"Ow, damnit!" I heard it, in my room. I was instantly awake after I heard that, and dead afraid. I sat there, listening intently, waiting for any other sign of movement. I couldn't hear anything at all, but soon, I registered heavy breathing from the opposite corner of the room. I focused on the chill that was issuing from the corner, the thing I knew I had drove into the wall, and pulled it out.
Screaming. Lots of it. From the corner. I had no idea what was going on. Whoever was over there was dressed in black, and he took a dive out of the window, taking the glass and the screen with it. I heard them land in the bushes lining the perimeter of the house, and running steps that faded slowly away. Right after the footsteps died out, someone burst into the room, and flicked on the lights. It was Bakura.
"What the fuck happened here?" He asked, seeing me, and looking around the room. That was the first time I got a peek at what the room looked like. There was blood, all over the wall where the thing had been. Remembering the thing I rammed into the wall and pulled out of the wall, I looked on the floor where I had dropped it. It was a dagger. The blade was about eight inches long, and serrated along one side. The tip was subtly curved upwards, and the handle was black. The gleaming silver blade was stained also with blood. Covered in the thick red liquid. A path of blood was leading from the stain on the wall to where it laid then.
"Ryou, are you hurt at all, who was in here, is that your knife, why is there blood all over the place?" Bakura looked both worried and pissed at the same time, and the fact that I was shaking uncontrollably, and couldn't answer any of the questions if I wanted to didn't help. He walked over to me and did the whole hands on shoulders bit, which didn't help anything, and he kept shooting questions at me. I became dazed, I eventually lost conciseness
I woke up later, and realized I was laying on the couch with a blanket over me, nad there was a damp towel over my head. I sat up, discarding the towel to an end table, and walked across the hall to the kitchen where Bakura was cooking something that looked a little too much like fried eyeballs to be comfortable.
"I'm glad you're awake, Ryou. I wanted to ask you a few questions about what happened last night." You could tell that Bakura was trying really hard not to bombard me with questions like he had dome the previous night. The clock on the wall said three in the afternoon, meaning I had been sleepy for the longest time.
"I don't remember a lot, but here's what I do remember." I went through the whole story, what I had heard and seen. I had no clue who the person was, and no clue why they were in my room, which made Bakura all the more uncomfortable. After I was done, Bakura looked more uneasy than he had before I started.
"Alright, Ryou, for safety reasons, I want you sleeping in the guestroom until we find out who did it. It is not near any windows, and closer to my room, and Malik's room. Speaking of which, where is Malik?" Bakura asked. That was what I was wondering about when I woke up. Suddenly, someone came in through the back door.
"Hey all!" Yelled Malik, his boots clicking on the wooden floor. He looked a little suspicious, at least to me. He had a bandage around one of his hands, and it was seeping blood everywhere. He was holding the hand, and proceeded to unwrap, and bandage the hand again. I looked at the wound on his hand. There was a cut on it, the palm, and the back of the hand, both at the same place, and the same shape.
"Malik, how did you get that?" I asked, trying very hard not to make my voice shake.
"Oh, I was cleaning up the glass outside, and cut my hand." He said, squirming a little. No, I didn't trust him. You don't get that kind of wound from a piece of glass. I made a mental note. "Keep an eye on Malik, and padlock my door." *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~* Alright, I made it look like Malik's the bad guy. Well, now, he might be, and he might not be. We'll have to see, I'm starting to rethink the person who was in the room that night...
I remember very few things that happened that night. I remember having a really great dream of Yugi and myself eating in one of our favorite ice cream parlors. We were talking, but what about I can't recall. And then suddenly, I felt something, something, chilling. It wasn't a physical chill; it was like, well, it's a little hard to explain. Everything I messed with with my mind, each had a different vibe coming from it, and I could feel it. For example, the toothpick on the first day felt warming, because it was made of wood. What I felt that woke me up was chilling, and at first, I was dead pissed at whatever it was for waking me up. At first, I really didn't care what it was, I just wanted to drive it into the wall, and so I tried it.
"Ow, damnit!" I heard it, in my room. I was instantly awake after I heard that, and dead afraid. I sat there, listening intently, waiting for any other sign of movement. I couldn't hear anything at all, but soon, I registered heavy breathing from the opposite corner of the room. I focused on the chill that was issuing from the corner, the thing I knew I had drove into the wall, and pulled it out.
Screaming. Lots of it. From the corner. I had no idea what was going on. Whoever was over there was dressed in black, and he took a dive out of the window, taking the glass and the screen with it. I heard them land in the bushes lining the perimeter of the house, and running steps that faded slowly away. Right after the footsteps died out, someone burst into the room, and flicked on the lights. It was Bakura.
"What the fuck happened here?" He asked, seeing me, and looking around the room. That was the first time I got a peek at what the room looked like. There was blood, all over the wall where the thing had been. Remembering the thing I rammed into the wall and pulled out of the wall, I looked on the floor where I had dropped it. It was a dagger. The blade was about eight inches long, and serrated along one side. The tip was subtly curved upwards, and the handle was black. The gleaming silver blade was stained also with blood. Covered in the thick red liquid. A path of blood was leading from the stain on the wall to where it laid then.
"Ryou, are you hurt at all, who was in here, is that your knife, why is there blood all over the place?" Bakura looked both worried and pissed at the same time, and the fact that I was shaking uncontrollably, and couldn't answer any of the questions if I wanted to didn't help. He walked over to me and did the whole hands on shoulders bit, which didn't help anything, and he kept shooting questions at me. I became dazed, I eventually lost conciseness
I woke up later, and realized I was laying on the couch with a blanket over me, nad there was a damp towel over my head. I sat up, discarding the towel to an end table, and walked across the hall to the kitchen where Bakura was cooking something that looked a little too much like fried eyeballs to be comfortable.
"I'm glad you're awake, Ryou. I wanted to ask you a few questions about what happened last night." You could tell that Bakura was trying really hard not to bombard me with questions like he had dome the previous night. The clock on the wall said three in the afternoon, meaning I had been sleepy for the longest time.
"I don't remember a lot, but here's what I do remember." I went through the whole story, what I had heard and seen. I had no clue who the person was, and no clue why they were in my room, which made Bakura all the more uncomfortable. After I was done, Bakura looked more uneasy than he had before I started.
"Alright, Ryou, for safety reasons, I want you sleeping in the guestroom until we find out who did it. It is not near any windows, and closer to my room, and Malik's room. Speaking of which, where is Malik?" Bakura asked. That was what I was wondering about when I woke up. Suddenly, someone came in through the back door.
"Hey all!" Yelled Malik, his boots clicking on the wooden floor. He looked a little suspicious, at least to me. He had a bandage around one of his hands, and it was seeping blood everywhere. He was holding the hand, and proceeded to unwrap, and bandage the hand again. I looked at the wound on his hand. There was a cut on it, the palm, and the back of the hand, both at the same place, and the same shape.
"Malik, how did you get that?" I asked, trying very hard not to make my voice shake.
"Oh, I was cleaning up the glass outside, and cut my hand." He said, squirming a little. No, I didn't trust him. You don't get that kind of wound from a piece of glass. I made a mental note. "Keep an eye on Malik, and padlock my door." *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~* Alright, I made it look like Malik's the bad guy. Well, now, he might be, and he might not be. We'll have to see, I'm starting to rethink the person who was in the room that night...